One can only read another life's story on pages spelt!A Poem by andrew mitchell
As the story goes
another chapter unfolds revealing the pages creased beyond the epilogue lies the truth beneath. The uncertainty unknown, the train of fiction rides through the changes of weather biographical resisting automation.
© 2017 andrew mitchell |
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1 Review Added on November 12, 2017 Last Updated on November 12, 2017 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more.. |

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